


Captain America, The Culinary Genius

by neverthelessthesun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Baking, Caring, Cookies, Cooking, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Food, Found Family, Gen, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet, Team Mom Steve Rogers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, flirting with baked goods, the way to a man's heart is his stomach, using the baked goods to flirt not actually trying to flirt with a pastry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 02:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20145997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: Steve takes up cooking and baking for the team. Everyone appreciates his efforts, except the one he was trying to impress.





	Captain America, The Culinary Genius

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! 
> 
> I found this old thing languishing away at the bottom of my google docs. I decided to polish it up and post. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve liked making food. It was meditative, and it was a very direct way of caring for the people around him. Back in his day, food had been scarce, and the fact that he had as much as he could eat now made it all the more precious to him that he could feed his team. 

He started with breakfast on Saturday mornings, because that was the day of the week that everyone was the most likely to be in the tower and awake. Eggs and toast evolved over time to pancakes, bacon, omelettes, and occasionally crepes, if he was up early enough. The team approved voraciously, shoveling food into their mouths like they were dying of hunger. 

Then, Bruce asked for help making a particularly complex curry, and Steve was all too happy to say yes. He learned what spices worked well together, and which topics to avoid while in Bruce’s company, and in the end they had a pretty good meal and a better relationship than before. 

He tried the tactic of food to get to know every team member better, and for the most part, it went very well. Clint opened right up about deep frying chicken, explaining his step-mom’s recipe to Steve from memory. That night they had the best fried chicken he had ever tasted. 

Natasha taught him about tea and herbs, plucking fresh ones from the potted garden against the window in the front room. “You must never use store-bought herbs,” she told him. “There have been too many hands that bruised them. Herbs are delicate. They need a light touch.”

Thor rhapsodized (in iambic pentameter, no less) for fifteen minutes about the taste of the wild boar Asgard would slow-cook after a great battle. It went on long enough that Steve found a barbecue place that was willing to let him use their cooker after hours, and cooked up a large sow. Thor cried tears of joy when he tasted it. 

Steve tried recipe after recipe, learning to make everything from kimchi to stroganoff. He poured over the cookbooks JARVIS ordered him, reading not only recipes, but stories from all over the world of people coming together over a good meal. He learned quickly, and experimented often, and all too soon he was making more meals a week than not. 

The one holdout to his food approach was Tony. Tony’s favorite meal was “A Burger King Cheeseburger,” which wasn’t something Steve could replicate, really. Tony didn’t keep regular mealtimes, and often missed Saturday breakfast, claiming a hangover from whatever event he’d been at the night before--though Steve knew he didn’t drink anymore. Tony didn’t even like it when Steve cooked, always saying “I have people for that, Cap. JARVIS, even. JARVIS, next time order the good Captain whatever he wants.”

It was frustrating, to say the least. Still, he did his level best to make sure their resident genius was included in their meal times, whether he was physically present or not. Steve would bring plates down to the workshop when Tony was there, or text him to remind him to eat if he was out of town. Tony only ever responded to these prompts by saying “I’m not a kid, Spangles.” or texting an eye-roll emoji, but he never asked Steve to stop.

In a way, their relationship did become less distant over time, though not as quickly as with the others. Steve supposed this was fair. After all, Tony had his walls up for a reason–he was trying not to get hurt. Steve was just going to have to out-stubborn him.

The unthinkable happened one afternoon as the rest of the team was just getting off mission, and Tony was just waking up for the day. Steve was buzzing with pent-up energy–the mission had gone well, but he had too much leftover adrenaline and jet-lag to sleep. He made his way down to the kitchen and set about gathering the ingredients for simple chocolate chip cookies. 

As he finished sifting the dry ingredients, Tony stumbled into the kitchen, beelining for the coffee pot. Steve hummed a good morning, but he knew better than to expect an answer until Tony was at least two cups in.

Thirty minutes later, a full three trays of cookies were in the oven, and Tony was awake enough to comment, “I didn’t know you baked.”

“I dabble,” Steve shrugged. “Since I’ve been cooking more, baking seemed like a natural next step.”

“That’s an understatement,” Clint disagreed from the doorway as he flounced in. “Rogers bakes like a regular Betty Crocker.”

“Really,” Tony said, eyebrow arched. Steve tried to tamp down on the blush floating high on his cheeks. 

“I made a cake a few weeks ago,” Steve started, but he was cut off. 

“It was german chocolate,” Clint enthused. “Best damn thing I have tasted in my life, hand to god.”

Tony looked calculatingly at Clint’s earnest face, then at Steve, then at the oven. “Well, now I have to try these cookies.”

“Cookies?!” Clint squealed. “Captain, you _do_ love me.”

That’s why, when the cookies came out of the oven fifteen minutes later, Tony was still seated at the countertop island, chatting amiably and nursing his coffee cup. He stood when Steve moved the cookies to a cooling rack, snatching one up still piping hot. He shoved the entire thing into his mouth, chewed, and let his eyes get round as dinner plates.

“These are amazing,” Tony managed around his mouthful. 

“Thanks,” Steve said abashedly. 

Tony swallowed. “No, I mean it. That is the best cookie I have ever tasted in my life.” He reached for another, grabbing three before Steve could stop him.

When Tony had finished his cookies, he held his stomach contentedly for a few moments. “You should cook more often, Cap,” he said offhandedly.

“Uh,” Steve said eloquently. 

“What do you mean? Steve cooks three meals out of every five for us already,” Clint argued. 

Tony stared at Steve with new knowledge in his eyes. “He does?”

“It’s, I don’t know, calming. I like it,” Steve defended.

“Well, shit,” Tony breathed. “I better start coming to meals, then, huh?” With that, he passed by Steve so close he could feel his body heat, and made his way out of the room towards his lab.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://nvrthlessthsun.tumblr.com/) if you want to chat, or if you have prompts for future fics!


End file.
